


In the Pink

by November Snowflake (novembersnow)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, The Eros Affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-04 06:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novembersnow/pseuds/November%20Snowflake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco should have guessed, but still, it was a surprise when Harry dropped his trousers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Pink

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted September 6, 2005.
> 
> Written for The Eros Affair. Scenario: I promise not to laugh during sex.

"Damn it, Draco, it is _not funny_."

Draco was too busy clutching his stomach and rolling around on the floor to reply.

"You wouldn't be laughing if it were you."

Which was true, of course, but Draco wasn't about to admit that.

Harry stared in the mirror and tugged forlornly on one bright pink curl. "Fuck."

Draco howled.

"Fine, then," Harry huffed, turning to glare at Draco. "See if _you_ get any tonight."

Draco stopped laughing. _This_ was not funny. "Aw, Harry…."

"You know, you might show some sympathy!"

"Hey." Draco pointed a finger at Harry. "I'm not the one who decided to reinstitute the Dueling Club and asked _Longbottom_ to help demonstrate."

"He's a very capable Herbology teacher—"

"If by 'capable' you mean 'dismal'—"

"—And it's not like _you_ volunteered to help!"

"You know I always brew potions to replenish Poppy's stores on Wednesday nights."

"You might have done that on another night."

Draco sidled closer. "And spend another entire evening without you?" he purred, running a hand down Harry's arm.

Harry took a step away and sent him a glare that might have appeared fierce if not for the incongruous halo of electric pink around his face. "I'm serious, Draco. Not until I'm back to normal."

"But the potion won't be ready until tomorrow night!"

"Well, then, maybe next time you won't laugh!"

"Haaarrreeee," Draco whined.

Harry turned his back on him.

"If we have sex, I won't laugh, I promise."

Harry sniffed.

"And I'll…you know…with my tongue."

Harry turned slightly and peered over his shoulder. "The tongue?"

"Yeah. Absolutely."

"And you _promise_ not to laugh?"

"Harry, I give you my word as a Slytherin that I will not laugh while we are having sex."

Harry gave him a skeptical look.

Draco sighed. "If I laugh while we're having sex, I give you permission to hex my hair as pink as yours."

"Done."

* * *

Draco should have guessed—Harry's eyebrows had turned pink, too, after all—but still, it was a surprise when Harry dropped his trousers.

"Mmmph," Draco said as he slid a hand over his own mouth.

Harry glared. "Are you laughing?"

Draco shook his head, hand still against his lips. Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion, and Draco scraped up enough force of will to remove his hand and shake his head frantically once again. "It's—er—different," he managed.

Harry stared down at the explosion of pink at his groin. "I'll say," he sighed.

Draco stepped closer and placed a hand on Harry's chest, stroking downward over his belly and the line of pink hairs that marched down his abdomen. "Not…unattractive," he ventured.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. "If I'd known you had a thing for pink…."

"Not pink," Draco said, pressing a kiss to the corner of Harry's mouth. "Just you."

Harry murmured something low and approving and opened his mouth under Draco's. It was amazing, Draco thought, how this never failed to excite, even after so many years, after rivalries and jealousies and war, in spite of everything that seemed to work against them, and even in spite of pink hair. He could do this happily for the rest of his life. He hoped he'd have the opportunity.

He curled his fingers around Harry's erection as Harry nestled closer, trailing small, eager kisses along Draco's jaw and neck while Draco's fist stroked slowly. "Bed," Draco murmured, and Harry nodded fervently in reply.

When Harry had sprawled on his back and Draco knelt between his bent knees, Draco took his time examining Harry's body from head to toe. There was no piece of this body he hadn't explored, hadn’t touched with hands or lips or chest or cheek or other part of his own body, no hollow unstroked, no curve unkissed. It almost frightened him, sometimes, to realize anew just how deeply he loved this man, spread before him in all his pink glory. It wouldn't be hard to keep his promise, he knew, because underneath the unfortunate pink hair was _Harry_ , and his connection with Harry was something he could never laugh about. They'd taken too long to reach this point, suffered too much together and apart. Every time they came together like this was a gift. Every time Harry whispered words of love was a miracle.

Every time Harry looked at him with that teasing half-smirk and hooded green eyes sparkling with challenge, like now, was an invitation to pure sin. Draco's own lips curled in response, and he bent to his task.

* * *

Draco stretched, feeling incredibly loose and relaxed and happy, and turned to look at Harry, who was lying flat on his back, eyes closed, lips curled into the smuggest grin ever to grace the face of a wizard. His hair lay in pink disarray against the pillow. Draco's eyes raked down his body once again, from pink crown to pink eyebrows to pink chest hairs to pink groin to pink-furred legs, and suddenly he couldn't hold back.

"Hey!" Harry protested, sitting up sharply when Draco began to bray with laughter. Draco turned his face into his pillow and howled, fist pounding against the mattress. Harry picked up his own pillow and thwacked Draco with it until he turned over. "You bastard, you promised you wouldn't laugh!"

"I only swore I wouldn't laugh at you _during_ sex," Draco choked, holding his sides. "I never said a word about _after_."

Harry pummeled him harder.

* * *

The next morning, when Draco looked into the mirror, he screamed.

"Better start brewing a double batch of that follicle-altering potion," Harry commented smugly from the bed.

"But—you—during—I didn't—"

Harry slid from the bed and stepped up beside him, curling an arm around Draco's waist and tipping his head against Draco's so that their identically tinted hair melded into a bright mass of vibrant pink. "And I never made any promises that I wouldn't hex you anyway."

Draco spluttered, then sulked. "How am I supposed to look my students in the eye today?"

"The same way I will—by reminding yourself of how _I'm_ going to do the tongue thing on _you_ after you've finished the follicle-altering potion."

Draco perked up. "Oh really?"

"Really." Harry pressed a kiss to Draco's pink-stubbled jaw and grinned. "And _that's_ a promise."


End file.
